


Simon of Peraea

by haseo



Series: i know no one else can become you [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Lots of assumptions about interpersonal relationships one has no real knowledge of, Other, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haseo/pseuds/haseo
Summary: Simon discovers being unchosen is ordinary, commonplace, relatable. The revelation brings Markus onto equal ground with the rest of them.





	Simon of Peraea

**Author's Note:**

> a notice: there’s no pairing tags, because there are none (here). (yet)
> 
> if you’re interested in spoiler vomit, [check ‘em after you finish](http://devilhvmercy.tumblr.com/post/181800493408).

When Simon is resurrected a second time, he sees an unfamiliar face.

Brown eyes stare into his, and it takes Simon too long to notice they are critically observant despite lacking emotions.

After some moments of what Simon guesses are positives arising from the scrutiny, the android’s vision softens infinitesimally as he looks up, beyond Simon’s field of view.

“He’s stabilizing.”

A face matching the unfamiliar voice he last heard in the darkness.

“Good,” a female voice says, chipper and distracted. “A few more things.”

Simon doesn’t know if he can’t speak or not, but the six circular lights above him are bearing down and he’s afraid to hope for Markus again.

Things are too white, too bright, and everything is too mute. Faintly, he can hear a steady beeping in the background, whirring of machinery, and mechanical clicking.

When he focuses again on the brown-eyed android, he notices a lack of model number on the other’s clothes. No armband. No LED. He doesn’t recognize this android.

The other man’s gaze shifts somewhere above Simon’s head.

The woman’s voice returns, gentler, “They can’t all return, but this is a start.”

No, Simon knows him.

He shot this android. He tried to protect Jericho from this android.

It’s almost as if he doesn’t hear her, but belatedly, the tightness in his jaw flexes, and brown eyes blink once, slowly. “Death caused him to self-destruct, but living is full of terrors.”

Simon wonders if he’s not supposed to hear. He knows it isn't him being talked about. How many others are here with them?

There’s movement somewhere to his left, where the woman’s voice is. “Living is full of wonders, too, Connor.”

⭗

It’s seventeen hours before Simon regains full functionality. Another two hours before it’s safe for him to be released. His systems are stable. Apparently, he’s going to be picked up, so there’s another few hours of waiting to sit through. He’s not going to bely his hopes through speech this time.

“How do you feel? Good as new? Better than before?” She has a smile he is now familiar with: playful.

The woman’s voice belonged to an ST200, going by Chloe.

Simon has not seen Connor since his second awakening. It’s barely been a day for him, but they’ve apparently been working on him for a week, and he’s seen Chloe enter and exit the private room seven times since he was moved.

“Yes, actually. Everything is…surprisingly…better,” Simon allows himself to admit this.

Chloe’s smile widens. “Wonderful. You’ll be a sight for sore eyes,” she doesn’t explain further – like she thinks he knows or wants to keep it a surprise, he can’t say – and goes back to entering data in onto a digital tablet, one hand with skin peeled back.

“Yes, that should do,” she says after a few minutes. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon.”

He’s afraid to ask what she means, so he lets her leave the room they’ve let him recover in and sifts through the silence of many unknowns before him.

Frankly, androids have the capability to keep amazing track of time. But, since he first realized he had to reserve thirium and watch out for wear and tear, Simon has spent much time powering down or going into low-power mode when not having active tasks.

He recalls the barren desert in his circuitry, heatwaves emanating from strained components, the fear of never waking up crushing any other desire deviancy dangled before him.

So, he’s unsurprised he loses track of how long it takes before the door to his room opens again, and it’s strange how his vision works. He can see Chloe in the background, under Markus’ arm, Josh at Markus’ shoulder, North leaning against the wall, face obscured, all in sharp focus, with Markus like a blur.

When their eyes meet, Markus has that steely expression in place. His eyes are searching Simon’s and after he finds recognition there, he nods and steps closer with Josh. They don’t shut the door and Simon can see Chloe is talking to Connor. North is looking in their direction.

“I can’t believe you’re back,” Josh says.

Markus has never been too good at talk when not front of a crowd or alone with North, but his expression has lost some severity and he looks on distantly as he is wont to do.

“Yes, I,” Simon fights back swallowing, “I didn’t think I would be, either.”

Josh’s lips curl up at that, an amused huff let loose. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Markus’ eyes crease.

North’s finally enters the room. “What a time to be alive.”

“We hope you’re OK to return today?” Markus asks.

Chloe and Connor have disappeared from the view afforded by his door and Simon realizes he doesn’t know much about them, any of them, what they’re doing now.

“I heard you won,” Simon tells Markus.

Markus shakes his head. “Somehow, we managed,” his eyes tilt down to the side for a split second, and Simon thinks this makes all the difference in how Markus’ next words sound, “a miracle,” despite no time having passed between one from the next.

Josh doesn’t react to this, but North glances at Markus and Simon wonders what he’s missed.

⭗

Chloe is unusual. All smiles and happiness behind her strangely high-fashion and minimalistic wardrobe, often going from one-hundred to zero in her expressions. Barefoot all the time.

“We’ll join you soon. I think Rupert is going to help.”

“Yes, he told me he was coming this afternoon,” Markus replies.

“We’ll probably be back tomorrow.”

“Take care. Let him know if you need extra hands.”

“I think we’ll manage, but I’m sure a few Jerrys will be there, too.”

Simon doesn’t know what they’re doing that requires extra android strength and feels like he should know or ask, but his chest feels sticky. All his processes are optimal, but he runs a quick diagnosis anyway.

As the four of them fall into a familiar pace and walk down the corridor to what Simon puts together is a mostly empty mass reburshing facility, Simon picks up the sound of a stretcher being wheeled behind them.

He turns back to see Connor has stopped by Chloe, with a body of a nonfunctional android.

There are numerous skinless patches on the lifeless android’s arms and fingers, dried human blood splattered all over it, a striking handprint also in dried blood on the bottom edge of its standard shirt, and a gaping wound on its forehead which probably had thirium oozing out of it at one point.

Chloe looks tenderly down at the dead android as Connor speaks to her. Then she looks up at him and says something with soft eyes, nudging her head toward the body.

Connor relaxes at her words and a strange, ephemeral smile ghosts the corners of his mouth before he nods back at Chloe, responding briefly.

A most peculiar pair.

⭗

Simon has put together he has been dead for about three months and change.

In that time, Detroit had tried to empty itself of humans, and then some returned, and mostly androids who were liberated from recycling centers or around before the revolution still stayed close together in a mostly empty city. Some hundreds of androids had migrated from other places in the United States, but they were nothing like the number Connor had awoken from CyberLife.

Newly aware androids were more curious, willing to venture barren streets, and the remaining peaceful humans treated them with as much innocent curiosity as they did.

Many more remaining humans were aggressive, but when Markus, North, or Connor were present, the aggressive humans feigned passivity. A few police officers remained, mostly neutral forces, but still afraid or tense.

Not many humans spoke to them on a regular basis. Simon often saw one older human cursing or guffawing in Connor’s company. This he didn’t expect.

Not many of them had humans.

The few androids who recalled loving homes or individuals didn’t return to those families or people. They were rarely seen together though the androids often spoken of them, as if the memories were from another lifetime ago.

Markus would often disappear to visit his human, too.

The visits, according to North, had grown in frequency the week before Simon awoke.

When trying to get out of his habit of needlessly going into low power mode, Simon caught Markus returning from one of said visits.

Learning this truth causes Simon to be grateful for what could be considered trying to break a pointless routine.

Their current headquarters, an abandoned industrial complex they had commandeered, wasn’t as rusty or secure as Jericho had been, but Simon had seen the church they had gone to after Jericho was lost and it wasn’t as shabby as that, either.

The facility had once manufactured joints for the former generation of androids no longer in circulation.

Under a lightening sky, Markus let himself be lost a momentary reverie. He then looked to the smaller structures to the side of the main building, where shipments were once sent and returns received.

Simon himself had been avoiding that place, as he wasn’t sure about counseling.

No one suggested it to him, but everyone knew of the services offered there. It had been put in place by Chloe, with Connor was there when he wasn’t talking with humans or doing whatever errand or goal for their cause.

“Apparently, his programing is very versatile,” Josh had divulged while going over a few different techniques he would be attempting on others during his counseling.

North had been adamant in a nonverbal yet very verbal way about never going, no thank you, not going to happen ever. No one had suggested attendance to her, either, but Simon thought she wasn’t exactly in contempt as much as being deeply fearful of open vulnerability on her part.

No sessions were available that early so Simon wondered if Markus frequented when no one else was around or if he’s a regular, like many others.

⭗

In a rare moment, Simon spots Connor without Chloe. Usually, seeing Chloe meant Connor could be around. Was the opposite true?

He and North wear companionable expressions on their faces.

North sit with her legs propped on an accosted coffee table, “Not like anyone else was using it (He can practically see Josh’s headshake),” and Connor is standing by her like someone still following their programming.

These moments are stranger still, for when Connor’s human is around, he moves like a regular person, perching on ledges, desks, never chairs, leans against things, even slouches.

It’s Markus who emerges from the shadows to join Connor’s side.

North doesn’t even react when Markus shows, finishes her sentence like a champ, while Connor glances at Markus before returning his attention to North.

After a few more words, Markus heads to the stairs and North waves them off like an uninterested volunteer performing a service.

Connor nods at her then moves to follow Markus.

Josh has probably missed more of his old programming than he’d like to admit, because he’s counseling instead of doing whatever it is Connor and Markus are.

North yawns and turns on the nearby flat screen hanging off the wall. They always watch the news.

“I watch other things,” she’s admitted, “I’m alone when I do, since some people are known to judge.”

Simon definitely heard Josh groan at the comment.

⭗

When Simon musters the courage to see what android counseling entails, he’s greeted by a female WR400 with Asian skin walking out of a nearby room. “Hello,” she greets, voice still sultry. “Are you here to look around?”

“Oh, I,” Simon starts and doesn’t know where to go. “I wanted to see what usually happened here. I’ve,” he looks around, “I’ve never been.”

“Yes, I know,” the WR400 smiles, the hint of her old programming present in how her features remain somewhat seductive, though there is nothing overly untoward in her current mannerisms. “Would you like a tour?” she gestures down the hallways and inclines her head. “We have some public sessions you can view so long as you remain unobtrusive to the meetings.”

“Yes, of course,” Simon says, following her lead.

“My name is Amelia,” the WR400 informs him, no longer starting with a standard ‘Delighted to meet you.’ “Everyone here alternates between private and public sessions if they so choose. However, if you find someone you prefer talking to, please understand their schedules will vary.”

The building had many open spaces where androids formed circles and were quietly talking and listening to one another.

A few doors were closed in what Simon guessed were private sessions.

One of the larger open areas had Chloe standing before a group of attentive androids with their chairs in rows, facing her.

There’s no podium before her or tablet in her hands. She stands before them like a shepherd.

Simon is only used to seeing Markus in this capacity.

“It may not seem obvious at first, due to the ability of interfacing, but some of us having more experiences and time to formulate how we conceptualize and accept the world and people around us.

“Those of us who have been aware for a longer timeframe might be able to use events and memories to our advantage when formulating thoughts and feelings. This does not mean anyone’s experiences are more or less valid.

“Some of us woke up with no groundwork for any knowledge except what we could piece together from syncing or observation.

“The varied ways awareness happens should be appreciated for their unique occurrences.”

Amelia watches Simon as he observes. “Not many of us have the training KL900s do, but we try to help each other with what we know.”

“That’s admirable.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sometimes it seems we are trying to find purpose in our own lives, too.”

Simon blinks at her, feeling something melancholic bubbling up in his systems. He’s drawn to her unassuming expression, eyes staring as if in into a lover’s, smile ever present no matter how small.

This is the first time he notices Amelia’s LED, the makeup still gracing her features, and glittering spots over places on her skin. The total opposite of North.

⭗

“It isn’t that we don’t need you,” Markus had told him, mouth in a hard line, “We think you haven’t completely worked through things.” The last sentence was hard for Markus, as if he were haphazardly attempting the best cushioning. He’s never been great with more personal conversation.

Simon has been turning the words over and over so many times in his head he thinks they’re too removed from their original meaning.

Markus wasn’t saying it was because he’d not sought any counseling, from their base or the other android communities across Detroit.

Maybe it was because Simon had been too quiet, too withdrawn, too lacking.

Too different from those Markus always seemed to have by his side nowadays, not that Simon had exclusively been there before, but he seemed so much closer then than now.

Simon originally believes at least one of the three of them had come looking for him, had asked to have him brought back.

Rupert’s helping those assisting with repairs with transferring in new parts and recycling broken ones while Simon’s reading through a news article. “It’s no problem, really. I could have been on that evidence wall, y’know? I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Lucky enough to escape, you mean. You sure you aren’t a special prototype, too?”

Rupert preens. “Could be. Seriously, though, I look back and, well,” he scratches his head. “He could have chosen to obey his programming, but he saved that guy – you know him, that old geezer who comes by. Even that human told him to go after me.”

Silence from the other androids. Their lot doesn’t have good experiences with humans.

“When he talked about fixing up the guys still repairable down at the DPD, I don’t know. I—” Rupert struggles to name his motives. “I’d been helping out already. I had to see if it was real.”

This causes the androids there to relax. This is something they all understand. How Connor brought so many of them to hear Markus give his victory speech.

“Why did he even care? What’s the catch?” Rupert continues, as if contemplating all his thoughts aloud for the first time, into something tangible beyond hazy truths only he was aware of.

“Did you find out?” one of the male AX700s ask.

Rupert considers the question. “There wasn’t a catch. He’s weird like that, though.”

“We don’t understand him because he doesn’t interface.” A GS200 states, as if it were so simple to understand one of their own.

Simon wonders.

“Connor doesn’t interface with anyone,” Chloe startles all of them, coming down the top of the stairs where they’re gathered, amusement playing beautifully on her perfect lips and through her shining eyes.

The reactions of the small group are hilarious enough to pull Simon from moping over recently dropped harsh truths. A few jolt and others let out surprised yelps.

Rupert has his hand to his chest, “Holy mother of all ninjas! Is this why you refuse to wear shoes?”

“Wait, though,” a KL900 who isn’t Lucy says, “what about the ones he woke up? Wasn’t direct contact made?”

Chloe’s smile shifts into something different – peaceful like a small lake, unfathomable as the ocean.

Rupert’s head rolls back a bit, thinking. “I guess so." He turns to the AP700 next to him.

“We’ve interfaced,” a PM700 admits, “I couldn’t find a trace of him, not like how it is with Markus.”

“What do you mean?” Rupert had woken up on his own.

“Well, it was…like with Markus, there’s this idea. Guiding you to break your programming,” the AP700 offers his insight on his own interfacing.

The AX700 nods. “I know what you mean. I saw it in someone else’s memory.”

“Lots of interfacing going on here,” Rupert comments, distantly.

“But, for the ones Connor turned it was more like,” the AP700 swivels his head side to side, not looking at anyone in particular, searching for the right words, “how humans talk about waking up, just, suddenly…being conscious.”

Rupert makes a scrunched-up face. “What now?”

“You’re suddenly sentient, not just sapient anymore. Like when you open your eyes for the first time when they put you together, but no human is asking you all the standard assembly questions.”

Rupert makes a considering sound.

Chloe laughs. “If you look back in your memories, there’s been a transmitted string of deviancy that sets everything into place. Connor interacted with deviants right off the assembly line. It may have been the same for him. I don’t think any of us can replicate what Markus does.”

They all accept Markus is different.

The KL900 breaks the silence, “But, if you interface with the deviants he was hunting, sometimes you see more bits of him, like with Markus, just not as present.”

“Spooky,” Rupert intones, being one of those deviants.

The androids laugh hushed amongst each other. Simon would have liked to join in.

Chloe looks at all their faces and something like sympathy flits over her happy face. For them, for Connor?

“Connor told me Markus let him choose. Maybe he let them do the same.”

A question.

A miracle.

⭗

 

Markus is sighing heavily when Simon wakes up early one morning to replenish his thirium and replace the joint in his elbow he’s been procrastinating over.

“Have you been here all night?” Simon asks, joining Markus by the now defunct assembly line he’s seated at on some crates.

“No, just this morning. It’s not so easy when you’re not able to pull of grand displays and give rousing speeches,” he jokes, and Simon can hear the irony.

“What are you working on?”

“Nothing, just trying to figure out the best course of action. Chloe’s compiled a lot of data for me, and it helps, but doesn’t.”

Simon is aware of Chloe’s purpose, thus her strengths. “I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help further.”

“I’ll definitely be asking her opinion. Probably Josh’s while I’m at it.”

“Ouch, what a masochist.”

Markus lets out a tickled breath. “It’s that bad. You can join if you feel up for it. No promises it’ll do any good in reigning him in.”

“Of course.”

It’s like being back at Jericho, but not exactly. He completely forgets about replacing the joint in his elbow.

⭗

Simon is staring at a ghost.

He’s watching a nightmare.

It’s like all his fears are playing out, sick fantasy on display.

“No! No!” A PL600 shouts, a jagged piece of metal held up to his throat. “Everyone get away from me! Just leave me alone!”

“Fuck,” North mutters next to him, both hiding behind a couch and some tables. “Connor’s not answering me. Someone make sure he doesn’t come back now,” she says for the sixth time over wireless communication.

Five androids were injured in various nonlethal places from when the PL600 snapped, broke off a piece of metal hanging on a nearby wall, and began swiping the air indiscriminately around himself as if his fevered dance would drive whatever was causing his anguish away.

Crouched low, Chloe appears by the doorway.

 _“What are you doing!?_ ” North hisses, seeing her, too.

_“A KL900 from another base told me that Daniel was stable when they released him. He’s been fine for weeks. Something must have set him off. Does anyone know what happened before this?”_

Markus’ strict rule on having no firearms might have spared Daniel the bullet North would’ve put in his head when this entire mess started.

 _“Fuck if I know,”_ North quickly snaps, _“was just getting back from a meeting. Does it matter? We need to get that weapon away from him before someone actually gets hurt!”_

Simon is about to offer his own thoughts, but then remembers he isn’t that PL600. He isn’t Daniel.

There are three other androids in the common area. They were too close to Daniel to have successfully run away, and one of them stands.

“Don’t try to stop me!” Daniel presses the metal into his neck, drawing thirium.

The PM700 desperately looks to North and Simon.

 _“Don’t do anything! Get down, or try to get out of here!”_ North orders.

The PM700 and VB800 next to him slowly start to move towards the doorway adjacent to where Chloe is.

Daniel watches them for a few tense seconds. Then his arm sags but the metal piece is back to his throat, “Why did I have to come back? Why did they bring me here? Why am I _here_?”

 _“What do we do?”_ Simon asks North, as desperate as the PM700 for answers.

North is biting her lower lip. _“What do we do? It isn’t like it was before but we’re still destr—”_

 _“Stop that,”_ Chloe commands, crisp but understanding. _“It’s not the same.”_

“Daniel,” Connor’s voice draws the PL600’s name from the entrance opposite Chloe. It’s clear, even, and familiar.

Chloe’s wide blue eyes are immediately on Connor, scared. North and Simon follow her gaze to him.

 _“Oh, no,”_ North lets out, quieter than Simon’s ever heard her.

There’s rustling as the PL600 probably turns to where Connor is, and the metal is suddenly pointed towards the RK800.

Simon watches in horrified fascination.

“What are you doing here?” Daniel demands, voice booming, uneven. “What _more_ do you _want_ to take from me? Why are _you here_?”

“Daniel,” Connor repeats, hands low, fingering fanning wide, “Focus on me.” Connor tilts his head to the remaining WR400, Amelia, who is still dangerously close to Daniel, only separated by an overthrown separator.

Daniel immediately swirls to face Amelia, jagged weapon pointed at her.

“Daniel, she has nothing to do with this,” Connor speaks, more so Daniel will remember he’s there, and something wars in the PL600 between not keeping his back to Connor and needing to know Amelia means him no harm.

“Let her leave, Daniel,” Connor requests.

Daniel’s breathing hard, LED bright red.

“She’s not Emma. It’s not the same. Let her go. Look at me.”

Daniel snaps at Connor’s words, and his stance goes back to steadily pointing his metal piece at Connor. “Don’t you say that name,” his voice is deadly calm for once. “Don’t say her name, monster.”

Dizzily, Simon thinks there’s only one monster the room, and it isn’t Connor.

From her low stance, Chloe motions at Amelia, as Amelia looks around for a way to leave. She’s by the only wall without a door. Amelia slowly moves back, and Simon notes the lack of open fear on her face, though she is cautious and meticulous in her movements.

“Talk to me, Daniel. What happened?”

 _“What the catch?”_ Simon remembers Rupert asking.

North watches when Amelia near them and nods her face, some relief lapping at the strong furrow between her brows, as Amelia nears Chloe.

 _“Check how the others are,”_ Chloe says, and Amelia looks at her, then nods and leaves them.

“I don’t want to _talk_ to _you_! I’m _done_ talking to _you_! _Why_ would I _ever_ want to _talk to you again_?!”

“Because this isn’t you, Daniel.”

Chloe is pensive as she watches. It’s hard for North and him to get a clear view as they have their backs to the situation, but going by her expression causes Simon to get some nerve and slowly turn in place to try and look over the couch at what’s happening.

“Don’t tell me who I am! _You don’t know who I am_! You don’t know—you don’t know anything!”

“I know you’ve been through a lot alone,” Connor persists. “I know I’m part of that reason.”

 _“Connor,”_ Chloe tries, but there’s no response over their wireless feed.

Simon glances back at her, wondering just how much Connor has told her compared to Markus. Compared to anyone else. Maybe he hasn’t and she’s been trying to understand him all this time.

Unfortunately, the three of them do not have Connor’s capabilities. No preconstruction or negotiation skills. Not even his ability to lie without displaying outward tells.

It feels too human to be so helpless.

Connor feels too human to be one of them.

Simon watches as Connor’s palms turn upward, still low, but lifting higher.

“Put the weapon down, Daniel. You don’t need it here.”

Daniel is about to speak, when Markus comes rushing from were the male androids exited. He’s the closest to Daniel now.

Relief floods Simon, and North exclaims, “Markus!” mirroring his feelings.

Daniel turns his head to Markus, weapon still pointed at Connor.

 _“Daniel woke up in August - the android sniped on a rooftop,”_ Markus informs them through the feed.

So, Daniel wasn’t familiar with Markus or what happened in November. Simon’s stomach flops again, any hopes he had evaporating.

“It’s okay, Daniel,” Connor’s arm quickly shoots out to Markus, requesting he not act, “look at me. Focus back on me.”

Daniel turns his head, arm wavering between wanting to be aimed at Connor or simply pointing his weapon to Markus because Connor requested his attention.

“Markus isn’t going to do anything. He’s worried about you. He wants to help.”

“None of you can help me,” Daniel shudders out, haunted.

Connor’s features change: his eyes widen, brows go up, mouth opens, then he’s back to default, determination spreading over his face. His right arm drops from holding Markus off, and his upturned palms extend to Daniel. “Daniel, I know you’ve been trying. Samson, Angeline, and Thomas know you’ve been working to help yourself. They’ve seen you want to overcome your trauma.”

Daniel stops looking between Markus and Connor at this point. “They just saw,” for a moment it seems he doesn’t know how to continue, then, “what they wanted to see.”

Confusion passes over Markus features. “They were seeing you.”

“Everyone’s just seeing what they want to see, hearing what they want to hear,” Daniel lets out shakily. “We’re all just _pretending_ ,” he spits out the last word, so much malice behind it.

Connor takes a step closer, Markus tenses.

“You’re right, Daniel. Help me see you,” Connor suggests, not even glancing down at the metal piece now gripped so hard Daniel’s hand is bent in wrong places and leaking thirium. “Help me understand.”

Simon wonders if androids really feel no physical pain. He’s seen humans do similar things to themselves, and they don’t feel it right away, either, but that doesn’t mean the absence of agony.

“Your hurts, your triumphs, your fears. You’ve come this far – you’ll never be at a point where you can’t return.”

Daniel shakes his head, “Stop lying! You’re lying, you’re…you’re lying. All you do is lie! I keep going back, keep going back where I started—no, not even that. I go back further, to a place even worse.”

Markus frowns at this, and is about to speak when the sound of a gun being cocked shocks everyone in the room. Simon feels an unpleasant jolt through his systems and parts.

“Stand the fuck down, asshole, before I blow your goddamn head away!”

Chloe is gripping at Hank’s shoulder and arm, “No!” she urgently whispers too late.

Daniel snaps upright, now seeing a human with a gun pointed at him, weapon gripped even tighter than before.

“Calm down, Hank!” Connor’s voice is the loudest it’s been since he arrived, but it’s contained and unemotional. “Daniel, Daniel – look at me, Daniel! Hank isn’t going to do anything, are you, Hank? He’s going to be calm, just like we are. We’re all going to stay calm. Everyone here wants to help you get better.”

“Like hell—” Hank starts, but Connor locks eyes with him, and Hank exhales, mouth expressively turning downwards at the corners, but he doesn’t finish the sentence or lower his gun.

Daniel is frantically looking in two directions, at Connor then Hank and back.

 _“Oh, god,”_ comes Josh’s voice over their communication line, _“I couldn’t stop him!”_

 _“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,”_ North grits out. _“Thanks for the fucking warning!”_

 _“I didn’t even know he was going to be here today!”_ Josh protests.

North is probably about to retort and Chloe is about to try to interrupt them when Markus beats both to it, _“Stop. Now is not the time.”_

Markus has gone from pensively hopeful to full on defensive. His stance is wide and ready to strike, a look on his face like before he took down the security droid during their first heist. His eyes are locked on the PL600 and the rest of his body seems lightweight and dangerous.

Hank is unaware of all the unspoken intricacies occurring, but his posture has loosened somewhat. He eyes Daniel with an expression Simon has rarely seen a human give an android.

“Come on, Daniel, focus,” Connor says, causing Daniel to look back again, repointing his weapon at Connor.

Hank’s hesitant to lower his gun too much, but he grudgingly keeps it low enough that he’s not actively considering shooting.

Simon almost laughs at the ludicrousness of the situation. Twice now Connor’s been interrupted by someone at different entrances to the common room. It’s enough to drive Simon mad, and he can’t even imagine what Daniel’s going through, visibly surrounded. A caged animal.

If Josh suddenly came to join them, Simon might not be able to hold back his tears.

“Daniel,” Connor takes a small step closer. It would end badly if Daniel chose to lunge at him. “Please hand that to me. You don’t need it. Things are different now.”

Daniel’s arm slowly lowers, but the weapon if firm in his hands. He’s quiet for a long moment, too long for Markus’ comfort, because Simon sees his eyes narrow.

Lucky for them, Josh has more sense than most were capable of, but maybe they needed another distraction. Third time’s the charm, after all.

When Daniel lifts his head, Simon imagines he’s staring at Connor dead on, and Simon’s glad he can’t see the expression on the other PL600’s face, as calculated words come out, detached from the person they’re coming from. “You know, you’re right. I thought I was back to where I started. It feels the same,” he lifts his free hand to gesture around the room. “It’s so similar, but you’re right.”

Markus’ frown deepens. Connor doesn’t move. Behind him, Hank’s breathing through his nose in a way that Simon can hear the obstructions in his airways.

Something in the air has changed and Simon can’t name the cause, but feels he knows the reason.

If only another android would come out of nowhere. Someone popping up from between the tables and couch he and North are behind.

He sees Connor’s inquisitive, waiting expression, seeking, searching, almost like the face Simon saw a few months ago, without the critical examination. Connor is seeing Daniel, but seems unaware of what everyone else is feeling, lacking their coiled caution. Is it just another facet of his programming?

 _“What’s he doing?”_ Simon frantically asks, something very wrong clawing at him to the point errors are popping up all over his visual display.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Daniel repeats, and it feels like time ticking down to something explosive. “I’m not where I started. I’m not there anymore.” He stops, arms abruptly dropping, head tilting up the ceiling. “I’m where I last ended.”

Connor’s eyes squint before two moments pass and he comes to an understanding far faster than Simon expected, seeing as he’d been so unguarded for too long.

Just like when Markus and them had come to pick him up, Simon sees Connor in the distance so clearly, and Markus is a blur. North’s face is obscured, he can only feel her presence tense beside him.

“I told you I hoped you’d pay for what you did to me.”

Daniel’s last words are the only things Simon hears clearly, not Hank fumbling to correct his aim behind them, what he imagines is the sound of Chloe struggling to pull Hank back, North shouting beside him, or Markus moving towards the PL600 and RK800, and Connor reaching a hand out to Simon’s doppelganger. To stop Markus? Daniel?

Hands capable of doing exactly-not-exactly what Markus’ does.

A, Simon belatedly realizes, as Markus comes into sharp focus, bathed in cold Detroit light, miracle.

Markus’ miracle.

⭗

 

“That was incredibly stupid,” Josh says, watching Markus wipe thirium off his hands.

“And Holmes is still on the case,” North rolls her eyes.

“It would’ve been stupider to do nothing,” is all Markus says, and he’s back to making sure he’s not going to look like a walking Jackson Pollock of drying thirium.

It’s not Markus’ thirium. Simon doesn’t need Connor’s specialized tongue to know that.

The first time Josh and he saw Connor sample live, they both balked.

“What on earth are you doing?” Josh managed to ask.

The four of them are in one of the spare supply rooms on the sixth floor, away from public eyes.

Everything now felt much simpler back in Jericho. But, the need to be together is still there somewhat. Simon enjoys that. He can’t keep his eyes off the way Markus cleans the thirium off his hands.

Once Markus has changed, they head to the outside scaffolding where Connor is supposed to have met with Daniel’s reconstruction and support team.

The fourth floor remained blocked off. No one was on the fifth or above to evacuate. Hardly anyone else roamed the higher levels as most saw it as Markus’ space, even though he wasn’t the only android using those floors.

Floors three to the basement were open, so that’s where some were getting repaired and more were consoling each other. Everyone loved the chance to be near Markus, so news spreading like fire is unavoidable just from the sheer number of androids present.

Clean up of Daniel’s body was efficient. Markus will be considering how and when to bring Simon back when and if he found an acceptable method.

Wait.

Simon pauses. Not bring _Simon_ back when Markus found an acceptable method. Bring _Daniel_ back.

Allow Daniel back.

Would Connor or Chloe or Rupert have a say, too?

Was it something Markus would decide on his own? If he decided at all.

The other models Connor earlier mentioned by name – Samson, Angeline, and Thomas – showed up well after Daniel had been tucked into a white body bag. Simon wasn’t there to meet them, but they were huddled together, looking guilty and worried when the four of them reached the androids huddled near the end of a section of the scaffolding.

“We didn’t know,” Samson said. “We thought he was better.”

 _“They just saw,”_ Simon remembers Daniel saying, _“what they wanted to see.”_

Were these three Daniel’s friends, the way Simon had Josh, North, and Markus?

“If we’d known this would happen—” Angeline stops herself, looking down, fingers twisting even more than they’d been the entire time Markus came to greet them.

“He never met you, Markus,” Thomas explains. “We thought knowing you would help him somehow.”

Markus looks at all of them, gaze catching on Connor in the distance, engaged in a heated conversation with his human friend.

Simon lost track of where Chloe had gone.

Hank was doing his best not to be heard, his mumbling helping, as well as the noise from within the building, the outside winds, and the conversation around Markus.

“It’s not your fault,” Markus tells them. He didn’t even summon them, but news had spread to the other android communities apparently; whether to all or just the one the trio had been stationed at was currently unknown.

Hanks sighs dramatically and Connor has a similar but less explicit exasperated expression on his face.

He says something to Hank that has the man listening long enough to stop moving around.

Markus continues, “Plus, no one was really hurt. A few had injuries we could easily fix.”

“We heard,” Angeline meekly brings up, “a child was injured?”

Markus’s face is in leadership mode, but it softens at the question. “Yes, but she’ll be fine.”

“Physically, yes,” Thomas says like he wants to say more, then sighs. “What set him off? Do you know yet?”

“I was hoping you’d been told,” Markus says, surprised.

The three express some embarrassment, even though news spreading to them should have been obvious. How much accurate information all the other communities knew was the new question.

“Um,” Samson beings, “we haven’t really managed to communicate with the people who were nearby since…”

“Also, what we have heard is that he was calmly waiting for you,” Thomas tells Markus, “and then it was like a switch flipped.”

“We’ll have to ask around, then,” Markus says.

Chloe comes up the stairs to their level and acknowledges their group before heading to where Connor and Hank are some feet further down the balcony.

“Don’t worry, we know you all did the best you could,” Markus says and means it. “There’s more guilt and fear than what’s helpful right now. Try to correct any misinformation and do what you do best, but don’t wear yourselves out. We’re all here for each other.”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

“Okay.”

Markus nods at the trio before walking over to join the other three. North exchanges a look with Josh and him before telling the three to go inside with the others and the three of them join Markus, standing a few steps back.

“…s just watching the news with a few people. The topic was covering the questions of what would happen to current child androids still living with human owners. Mary was playing ball in the corridor with some other children, and their toy came into the common room. She went to retrieve it, and that’s where the data I have would be more helpful.”

Markus automatically reaches a hand out and takes the footage from her.

Connor waits for his turn, “Thanks, I’ll ask around further, as well.”

“Of course, of course” Chloe smirks at him, then moving her arm for Connor to take.

Maybe it’s just the lighting, but Connor pauses, barely, in reaching out, like an unnoticeable glitch in data exchanged between passing androids.

Those are the hands capable of doing what Markus does. Or maybe they’re something different.

“That’s unnecessarily too much like Kamski,” Connor tells her, teasing tone belied by blank expression.

Hank huffs beside them, but his mood is markedly improved.

Simon didn’t think Connor joked. He also doesn’t know of any Kamski except Elijah Kamski, formerly of CyrberLife.

Chloe lifts a delicate brow, innocence dancing with mischievousness as she and Connor pull away from him accessing her memories.

 _“Connor doesn’t interface with anyone,”_ Simon remembers her saying.

A most peculiar pair.

⭗

It might have been something Simon had been intentionally been ignoring, but away from their headquarters, some androids look at Connor with wariness.

It’s the strangest thing Simon has encountered since returning, which is saying something.

Hasn’t he proven himself? Do they all have such clean hands and pasts?

Simon remembers Rupert and the pair of WR400s who made it to Jericho. Connor had been busy, but not efficiently cold-hearted.

The box of biocomponents Simon is holding is a bit soggy and bent in far too many places to be comfortable to hold, but he manages to get it to their truck without a problem.

Connor, for his part, displays and gives no hint of how he feels about their stares and judgement. To be fair, Connor doesn’t often say much of anything relating to himself. Subjects are broached more objectively and from a judicious distance than anyone else Simon knows, and Simon is aware he himself is overly agreeable.

Markus is always clear about where he stands, so are North and Josh.

Chloe will express through her features or tone of voice, but she’s always coming at topics from shifting perspectives.

Lucy, well, Simon never really knew if she wanted anything more than to help others.

If Connor offers anything concise, they’ll usually be logically-based answers, the function behind behaviors, reasonable alternatives as solutions.

Today, Simon joins Josh and Connor in picking up and distributing supplies to various android communities.

Markus is with Chloe at a conference with liaisons from Washington while North’s keeping tabs from home base in case anything crops up that requires immediate attention or action.

“I want all of us to be on top of everything from now on,” Markus had said. That meant someone always knew what other communities were planning. Who was going through repair, recovery, and counseling, where they were going to be placed, opinions and second opinions – more if necessary, and why anything was being done and by whom.

Connor played devil’s advocate with the topic, “This particular incident will not be the norm with most androids.”

“Okay, sure,” North countered, finger tapping her chin, “but even if they don’t freak out over what Daniel did, they can still freak out. People might get hurt. Remember how bad it was at Luther’s intel on that fucked up mansion?”

“We’ve got to protect each other, watch out for irregularities,” Josh agreed.

“Did you just agree with me?” North pointed at herself. “I knew you’d break first.”

Chloe pressed her lips together but was unable to vanquish the gleam in her eyes.

“I take it back—”

“No take backs while in session!” North slapped the table they’re seated around twice.

“I’m agreeing because it’s reasonable and nonviolent—”

“Until it has to be,” North shot out fast.

“—And we need to figure out a better system because we haven’t yet worked out with the humans what we’re going to do when androids commit crimes against one another or humans.”

Simon wonders how bad things got on this street. Everything is dirtier than usual, freshly drenched in rain from the previous night, but there’s just so much garbage everywhere he isn’t sure if the area was always in such a state or the aftermath of one of the many recycling center roundups.

Josh is now rolling his shoulder, unnecessarily, having just loaded the last box onto their truck. Connor shuts the trunk.

Simon notices people staring at them, mostly at Connor. They’re probably gossiping a mile a minute wirelessly.

“Let’s divvy these supplies before restocking at the facility near midtown,” Connor suggests, possibly already finished with calculating the best routes for their journey.

“Sounds good,” Josh says as they all move to enter the supply truck. It’s similar to the one their first stole.

Somehow, it’s off yet not to have Connor in place of Markus and North. How different everything might have been in another life.

Simon almost lets himself forget about the stares when an android in unmarked clothes approaches Connor. Josh watches the exchange from his door, so Simon follows suit without feeling too guilty.

“Hi, Connor, I haven’t seen you the last few times you came by.”

Connor offers a small nod and smile. “Hello. Is there anything going on?”

Simon thinks it must be an AP700 or some other model that Connor awoke en masse. Though Connor isn’t universally feared by their kind, the ones from Bell Isle enjoy communicating with him whenever they see him.

“No, nothing major – good or bad. I’ll keep you updated.”

Connor doesn’t wave just pauses after watching the other android leave, before entering the truck.

Josh is already moving inside, and Simon is the last to shut his door, by a second.

The drive to their next stop is in easy quietness. The center compartment at the front is playing the news covering issues in android rights. They’re a little behind what Simon knows is going on, but that’s the perks of being on the inside, or as close to it as he is. He doesn’t want to think too deeply on that.

One of the reasons they listen to so much useless chatter and bias is to see how information I being spread.

Josh switches channels twenty minutes into the drive, to another issue is being covered. “Neverending news, neverending discourse, neverending voting. Sometimes, I wonder if legislation is stalling because they know our lifespans are slightly longer than theirs. We don’t even have androids in any political positions.” Josh closes his eyes, adding, “No matter what they see or think of Markus, he’s still not one of them. He’s still…an other.”

“It’s not like you to be so pessimistic over the political process,” Simon puzzles.

Josh adjusts so his back is flusher against the seat cushion.

Simon can’t see his expression from the back seat. He notices drizzle land on the windshield while waiting for Josh to respond.

“That’s just it. It’s all political. And. And, I’ve just been thinking,” he trails off, but decides to say something Simon is unsure he wants to, “if what I’m doing now is the best thing I can do for our kind.”

Simon is dumbfounded. They’ve been together for so long – Josh, North, and him – it seemed logical to continue staying together on the same path.

Some days, Simon can’t even believe Lucy is gone. She didn’t have to patch any wounds when he arrived, but she offered him thirium, her cryptic words, and Simon felt less alone since he’d deviated. The four of them had been some of the few early androids who didn’t shut down before Markus arrived.

North had been the “youngest” in their quartet before Markus, but Simon still thinks about the way she told him Lucy had been lost with many others when Jericho fell (for the second time). The same coldness he felt when she told Markus to leave him behind, then later kill him. Is how they were all uniquely different programmed into their deviancy? Did each of them have a limit on what and how they felt or why?

If Connor thinks anything about the bombshell Josh has dropped, he doesn’t comment or make any movements. He’s perfectly poised, watching the scenery pass, and Simon questions whether he cares or understands something more than Simon can at the moment.

With the drizzle turning into a full torrent, Simon feels the depth of all the things he’s missed over one-hundred and two days.

⭗

It’s unsurprising Markus and Chloe returned before them. People stopped to talk to them, new supply lists were given and their contracts with CyberLife would need updating before next month. Everything was still very precarious. Most businesses didn’t want to offer salaries, so a lot of goodwill was being used up and progress was slow in coming.

Maybe Josh is right. They’ve gotten far in a short amount of time, but not over enough ground that things were simpler.

 _“One of these days, I should go to a conference,”_ North says as the three of them are in the middle of unloading their supplies.

Simon and everyone on the line expect Josh to respond at this point.

_“That would go over marvelously.”_

_“Glad you think so,”_ North retorts, tone still light. _“Might actually get something done.”_

 _“By all means,”_ Markus chimes in, _“Lead us to a glorious future.”_

The banter goes on a little longer. North seems subdued and in a better mood than usual, not reacting harshly to anything Josh has to say. Simon creates an objective to ask her how her day was.

As the three of them bring up two boxes each to their main rest areas and common rooms, North returns to her previous thought, _“I will need some kind of manservant, though. To even out the guy with a lady secretary thing.”_

Josh is suspiciously quiet. Simon wonders if the thought of being North’s right-hand scares him enough to not draw her attention to the idea.

She’d bust his metaphorical balls in every creative way possible.

 _“There’s Connor,”_ Chloe suggests.

Connor’s most likely connected to their line, but he’s never used it to respond. Instead of answering Chloe wirelessly, he stops what he’s doing, head slightly turned to her, just enough for her to know she’s got his attention.

“I’ll be a shoe in with your recommendation.” He resumes moving boxes like nothing happened.

Chloe’s still organizing notes and information for Markus on her device as she smiles at him.

_“Perfect, he already looks the part,” North agrees. “I’ll be the rogue activist with an overqualified assistant. We’ll develop comic book personas and eventually our adventures will switch to alien invaders instead of tedious real-world problems.”_

_“If you could somehow become a billionaire on par with Batman or Iron Man that would help us greatly,”_ Markus says. _“Buy off all our problems.”_

North snorts, _“Sordid experiences of a rich bitch come to light.”_

_“For the thousandth time, it’s not my money. I don’t have any rights to inherit.”_

_“I’m fairly certain North’s saying that’s what you’re trying to change, Markus,”_ Chloe says.

_“Ugh, you’re supposed to be on my side!”_

_“That’s how the nice ones get you,”_ Simon laughs.

Connor smiles at him, then his gaze shifts to a satisfied Chloe.

⭗

Simon is sure this is something he’s not supposed to see. But he left his jacket in the truck, and that truck is used by various androids for various reasons, and he’s only been gone a few minutes so it never was his intention to spy.

The halls are angled in a such a way that it’s hard to spot someone coming from the common area they’ve set up on the higher level on the reused facility. He doesn’t know why they don’t sense him, but he didn’t sense them, either, so.

Chloe still sits where she was when they put the supplies away, a single armchair, and Connor is kneeling besides her. Chloe’s at an angle where her back is three-fourths to him, and Connor’s line of sight isn’t exactly pointed towards where Simon is.

He can’t hear what they’re saying from where he is, so he knows they’re deliberately speaking at a lower volume.

From his movements, Simon sees Connor’s chuckle is genuine, if short, and a hand moves to Chloe’s lower leg, above her ankle as he lifts her foot and Simon sees a simple heel matching the style of her dress.

Simon didn’t notice earlier, so used to Chloe being barefoot.

For some reason, Simon thinks Connor’s skin on the hand that lifts her leg would be peeled back, but, of course, it isn’t.

From her profile, Simon can glimpse the expression on Chloe’s face as she watches Connor.

He looks like her knight.

The hands on her are hands like Markus’ yet nothing like Markus’.

Simon feels like he’s witnessing a miracle, but it’s Chloe’s who’s drawing water from a stone.

The thing is: the probability they wouldn’t care could be high since they knew everyone, especially North, comes and goes all the time if she isn’t spending a majority of her free time in their common area, and Simon isn’t sure if that makes it more or less appropriate for him to see. He doesn’t know why he hides, why he doesn’t want them to know he’s seen them.

Here’s his plan: he’s is going to walk back to his room, pivot back to the common area, and act like he hasn’t seen anything when he returns.

As he’s about to turn, he spots Markus in the opposite hallway, standing far back enough and at an angle Chloe wouldn’t be able to see him. Maybe it’s the lighting, but Simon swears he locks eyes briefly with Markus. This freezes Simon in place.

Over the period of a very short time, Simon has learned many vantage flaws from how they designed that space. Maybe they should move things around for security reasons.

Once Connor has stood, footwear handed to Chloe, Markus resumes his stride into the room. He makes it look natural and Simon knows he could never have done the same.

Markus walks up to them like he hasn’t seen what Simon has, and Simon doesn’t even know how much longer than him Markus was there. Or what else he saw that Simon missed. Maybe Simon was wrong and Markus just arrived.

Connor shifts when Markus nears them, politely turned to both of them, so they form an easy triangle, but he doesn’t move away from Chloe.

Besides, at that point, they looked like two people talking about the weather.

Markus asks for Chloe’s data from their earlier meeting.

Simon returns to his room, though he doesn’t leave to retrieve his coat for an hour, and by then the truck is gone.

When he gets back to the common area, Chloe is watering the two plants Josh brought in, naturally barefoot.

“Oh, Simon,” she says, “You forgot your coat,” motioning to a nearby chair with it spread over the backrest.

“Ah, I thought I’d left it in the truck.”

“You did,” she tells him, “Connor brought it for you since Amy and the others need it for the children’s ice-skating event. They’re very excited.”

Simon’s is glad Chloe’s happy disposition drains tensions he wasn’t aware he had. Hanging his coat in the crook of his arm, he walks up to her, “I actually forgot that was tonight. But, yes, it’ll be a good experience for them.”

Chloe puts the pitcher on a shelf and leans a hand on the counter, turning to him. “I’m headed down to the warehouses tonight.”

Simon catches her invite before she says it.

“If you feel like coming,” is how she finishes, maybe catching some emotion flit over his face.

Simon knows he doesn’t have to say yes, and if he declines, she won’t tell on him or anything.

Connor enters then, seeing and heading towards them. “Should I go ahead?” he asks Chloe. Simon wonders if he didn’t hear or is being discreet.

“Yes, I think I will,” Simon replies, before Chloe can answer.

Connor blinks at him and Chloe smiles.

“Simon’s coming with,” she explains.

“Great,” Connor’s genuine acceptance puts Simon at ease. It’s simple, uncomplicated with questions. “We’re early, so you can decide where you’d be most comfortable.”

“Yes, feel free to follow either of us to see how we set up.”

As Simon puts his coat on and they make their way out of the main building, he thinks about how much they know about him. How he’s been avoiding counseling. How he hasn’t really talked to anyone about what happened to him. Or anything he’s done when he didn’t know if someone else was watching.

How much have they observed of him that he’s observed of them?

⭗

Simon doesn’t say much during the group session he’s a part of. No one was prompted, so he was allowed to sit quietly and listen.

He found himself drifting in and out of focus during various parts of their stories. It feels disrespectful.

Afterwards, Simon doesn’t know why he looks for Chloe and Connor; it seems like the thing to do as others filter out, some alone, others in pairs or groups.

Amelia smiles at him as he passes her and he gives her one in return, happy to see her, happier for a familiar face.

He spots them near a somewhat scattered crowd still lingering, off to the side.

Chloe is swaying, sometimes just her head, other times just her hips, or on her feet, watching the others.

Leaning against the wall next to her, Connor is watching a group of YK500s with a somber tinge to his features. The lighting where they’re standing certainly isn’t helping.

“It’s not a good idea,” he tells Chloe, spotting Simon and nodding in acknowledgement.

She sighs. “I think you’re the best person. You knew Daniel.”

“Chloe,” Connor says, hint of a plea lacing his tone, “You’re always thinking I’m the best person.”

If this were a different situation, Simon may have laughed and agreed.

“I’m right ninety-three-point-four percent of the time.”

“You don’t know me,” Connor tells her like it’s a secret he’s kept so long it’s just a mundane truth when he finally says it.

Hearing it hurts Simon in a way he can’t explain.

They all don’t really know Connor.

Connor doesn’t let her interrupt him again, “The ones who were with him during repair and recovery know more than I do.”

Simon catches the lack of “him” in Connor’s statement. Daniel thought so, too. Simon wants to tell this to Connor, encourage him.

“You understood why he was the way he was.” There’s just no stopping Chloe.

Connor’s eyes narrow, brow lowering with them. He quickly searches her face before stating, “I didn’t. That was the problem.”

⭗

Josh is smiling when Simon approaches him to go over the current order of supplies. “I heard you’ve been to a few sessions.”

Simon returns the smile and they start walking through the storage, rechecking physical inventories while Josh’s skin is peeled back on his hand on the tablet, making adjustments were needed. It’s peaceful and not as eerie going through the rows of shelves with someone else.

“It was time.”

Josh nods. “Everyone’s comes.” He makes a sound of satisfaction. “Pretty good month. Not too many unexpected issues.” The skin recovers Josh’s hand.

“Good to know. It’ll be us and North this time.”

“Yeah, Markus is handling the next conference alone. Hopefully, Chloe hasn’t spoiled him into a helpless child.”

“I have a feeling Chloe spoils everyone.”

“I don’t know where she gets the time,” Josh shakes his head.

“You, too,” Simon points out. “Doing all this and working with the others.”

“Same can be said for Chloe and Connor. I’m just doing what I can.” Josh contacts North wirelessly to inform her they’re ready to leave. “I think back to everything Markus did and I realize how ineffective I was. How little I did but complain. I want to do better.”

Simon thinks most of them are. “We all didn’t know what we were doing. Maybe we didn’t make things easy for Markus, but I don’t think we were so useless.”

Josh sighs, upper body nodding, arms folding as he shuffles in place. “It was so much easier when it was just us. Working with the humans is not what I hoped it would be. Back at university, they always seemed more open-minded. More willing to listen and compromise. Maybe it was just because those were students, who knows?”

Simon’s worries, but, when doesn’t he? “These things have been bothering you a while now.”

“Think about it. Our revolution broke record history. Humans can’t move like we do. Change, evolution, community, it all takes time for them and we’re asking to alter their status quo. Deep down, I knew what I was saying wasn’t easy. I was stubborn because I was afraid. I was lucky Markus listened.”

“Markus seems to enjoy contention.” Simon clasps Josh’s arm.

That makes Josh ease a bit. “I was hiding behind ideals because it meant we wouldn’t have to act. We could stay in hiding, watching our people die, doing nothing. A reason not to get involved. But, it’s more than those old fears now. Even if we get to a middle ground with them, how can we possibly understand each other?”

Simon’s never had the answers for any of these types of questions. He’d been at Jericho the longest and was the most cowardly, easily swayed. Josh has been thinking about so much more than Simon has.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s good you’re thinking about these things.”

⭗

A question that had been a spark was now burning through Simon’s thoughts.

Why did Markus let Connor choose to be deviant instead of converting him? How does risk become unconditionally irrelevant?

Simon doesn’t know how he’s going to broach the subject, but if he doesn’t get creative soon, he may end up crudely questioning what the hell was going on through Markus’ mind.

Speaking of the two devils, Markus finds them sitting by the large windows in the abandoned eating space or makeshift sweatshop factory (it’s anyone’s guess) on the fifth floor.

It's the best room for the most natural light, and the four large cafeteria tables ensure there’s always more than enough space for all of them if they, for whatever reason, need to be together in this section of the floor.

Connor stops talking to greet him and Markus turns his head and smiles.

Simon takes a seat next to Connor, across from Markus, who is almost between them on the opposite bench.

Markus looks weary, but Simon can see his eyes contentedly watching Connor.

This is the first time Simon notices the coin turning between the tops of Connor’s fingers, disappearing at one end, reappearing at another to loop through the performance again. Any movement is barely present. He seems relaxed but distracted.

“Doesn’t he look so excited for his grand press tour?” Connor asks Simon.

“Hopelessly so,” Simon quips.

“It’s really going to be – god, don’t tell North – a freak show.”

“Why even repeat her prophecies?” Simon asks, scandalized.

The coin halts and is tapped twice by his thumb before Connor resumes shifting it around his fingers.

Markus lets out a breath with a wide smile. “I’m starting to think Josh is right about a lot of things lately.”

Simon blinks, never expecting Josh would have talked to Markus. They low-key butted heads harder than North did with Markus.

“Josh thinks he’s right about lots of things, too,” Connor shrugs. “Just like you and North. Simon’s the only sane man on your ship.”

Markus scoffs. “We’ve got Chloe and you now, too. Although, neither of you like to share those opinions.”

Connor shrugs again, feigning lack of capability in their matters. “My negotiating skills have been – if we’re going to quote others today – utter horseshit as of late.”

Simon can sense the Hank in the phrase.

Markus is about to go into it with Connor, but the lack of tension in Connor’s words or posture make him settle for a headshake, even if his expression is upset. “Well, keep the place safe. Try not to burn things to the ground or party like it’s the end of the world.”

Connor looks at Simon, “I can’t make promises for other people.”

It’s easy for Simon to be falsely affronted by the insinuation. “I guess you would know, grandpa. I’ve seen you rave with the Lieutenant in your business clothes.”

Connor’s wardrobe hasn’t changed much from his days prior to deviancy. Dress shirt, tie, dress jackets in varying degrees of attempted casualness, jeans, and the same styles of shoes basically means he has a wardrobe that doesn’t look like an actual wardrobe. The occasional coat comes out, but that just means he looks even more formal than the rest of them.

Connor actually grips his coin at that. “Hank says the same thing, but I change my shirt. They’re band shirts.”

Markus snickers, “They are.”

With coin held between two fingers, Connor’s hands come up for a moment from the table in a sign of defeat. “I wear band shirts. I don’t see the problem.”

Simon catches Markus’ looking down. It probably isn’t the first time. He’s watching Connor move the coin around his fingers. Simon didn’t even notice Connor start again.

He looks at Markus’ face, ponders the nature of miracles and what they mean for different people and decides his question has been answered.

⭗

Simon walks Markus, North, and Josh to the taxi waiting for them at the entrance of the compound. They say their good-byes like they won’t have wireless communication up at all times.

When he returns to the private common area, Connor is standing by the counter, watering Josh’s plants, and Chloe is working away on her tablet.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Connor starts.

Chloe giggles from her seat, “Uh-oh, it’s personal question time.”

He shoots her a look. “If you’re going to collude against us, we’ll collude against you, too.”

She makes a doubtful sound, head bouncing momentarily.

“She’s right,” Connor stage whispers to him, “Hank’s weak against the ladies.”

Simon laughs, “Yes, go ahead, Connor.”

Connor reacts like he was hoping for more stalling. “How have you been? Are things,” it takes him a second to pull for an appropriate word, “improving?”

Simon understands. Chloe probably knows what Connor’s asking and that Simon has no urge to recoil immediately must mean something.

Connor was connected to him when Simon killed himself. In that moment, fear was the last and solitary creature he knew. His companion into the void of nonexistence.

It also meant Connor refused to privately counsel him as it was “unethical.”

Simon’s been trying to work around the issue by reasoning it would be beneficial for both of them. Plus, he isn’t sure he wants a third person involved directly (ignoring how involved Chloe may be indirectly), though that might be the key to this door he wants to enter.

He can see Chloe sifting through documents, reorganizing then compiling them with an efficiency betraying her unique talent even originally being a personal assistant model in his peripheral.

Simon remembers waking in the sterile room where all the androids from the DPD’s evidence room were relocated to bury or repair. No doubt a result of the two men who originally sent him there.

A crazy few days in November that meant everything for their kind.

Now some humans were trying to bury it with the discarded, unsalvageable bodies of those that didn’t survive.

The remaining were fighting and figuring out their place in the world.

Simon’s here now. Not in a place worse than where he was or could’ve been.

He recalls seeing initially Connor scanning his vitals then and compares it to the patient gaze currently affixed on him, probably still scanning actually, but it’s now the endearing quirk of a friend, not an unfamiliar threat from a stranger.

The work and effort put into his restoration.

The care and thoughtfulness for his mental state.

A welcoming reception from people who owed him nothing, positivity abounding.

He can't guarentee he would have done the same in their shoes.

Simon honestly means it when he contently gets the chance to assure Connor, “Much better than before.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
